


Heavy

by Bloodsbane



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff without Plot, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, M/M, Sleepy Kisses, Trolls on Earth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-12
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2292254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodsbane/pseuds/Bloodsbane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dirk becomes unusually intrigued with Equius' sleeping habits, and idly contemplates the small things he loves about his troll boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heavy

**Author's Note:**

> This was basically just an excuse to talk somewhat about my headcanons concerning how Equius sleeps. Also the fandom is horribly lacking in non-sexual Dirk/Equius content (and this coming from someone who is all about that). The state of the world in which this takes place isn't very important, so don't worry about the small details. I just wanted to keep Equius as a troll in this.
> 
> Also sorry if Dirk is any sort of ooc, this is actually my first time writing him I think. 
> 
> The ending is also somewhat abrupt. I'm not joking about there being, like, no point to this. This whole fic was an accident. What am I even doing.

One of the many amazing surprises that came with dating Equius Zahhak included (but was not limited to) his finicky sleeping habits. Dirk had been blessed with the fun and intriguing task of discovering these small consistencies; as someone who had never dated a troll before, the opportunity certainly not one to pass up.

First came the benign realization that he would always be more active at night, and less willing to move about and generally function during the day. So it was with most trolls, who had adapted easily enough to the schedules of the ever-so diurnal human species, though instinct demanded they shy away from their weak Earth sunlight. Equius was just lucky Dirk preferred staying up and working late nights at the club when he needed extra cash. More often the two stayed in, lasting long hours into the night writing blueprints for robots or building them, or sometimes they’d relax and Dirk would try to teach Equius how to feel the purest joy a Super Nintendo could bestow.

After the first two months of dating, and Equius unconsciously seemed to agree it was ‘proper’ enough for him to start spending the night, Dirk noticed more. He realized despite having to deal with odd and often inconsistent hours, Equius never took naps. Dirk loved naps, often throwing himself into hours of arduous work and then doing his best impression of an obese feline for three hours following. Naps where great, if you knew how to take them. Equius, however, would push through hours of daylight with those worn blue bags under his eyes, determined to get anything he needed finished, a stubborn horse refusing to go down until he was damn well ready, thank you.

Neither of the aforementioned facts where especially surprising to Dirk. No, rather, it was the fact that Equius was such a heavy sleeper that caught him somewhat off guard. Dirk prided himself in his ability to wake up easily – it was inconvenient only sometimes, and he’d much rather be brought back into consciousness than allow things to go on around him while he was totally helpless. Equius, on the other hand, was totally out for the count when he went to sleep.

The first time Equius agreed to spending the night (Dirk remembered the initial casual resistance, and that attractive dusting of blue when he’d finally given in, beads of sweat speckling his forehead), Dirk had woken up sometime around midnight needing to piss. Despite their relationship status, Equius had fervently insisted he sleep on the pull out couch in the living room. Dirk had gone to the bathroom, then walked into the kitchen, turning the light on so he wouldn’t step on any of the stray spools, puppets, or tiny robotic parts. He rustled about for nearly ten minutes, idly cleaning things up and getting himself a drink of water before turning off the light and heading back to his room. Equius had slept soundly through all of that.

Subsequent sleepovers, Dirk experimented to see how this would go, ever the inquisitive and analytical sort of teen. Once he and Equius where working until early morning. Dirk was growing tired, and so Equius suggested the human needed rest. Allowing himself to be dragged to the boy’s bed (again, there was resistance, but Dirk smothered any of it with kisses and promises of warmth and cuddling), Equius was asleep by three-fifteen, face half-buried in a pillow, mouth open ever so slightly.

Dirk had a hard time resisting his own sleepy desires. He waited thirty minutes, just to make sure Equius was in fact deep into his sleep. Then Dirk got up out of bed, went to the bathroom, and got back in.

Quiet Equius.

Dirk laid down and shifted around, constantly, for about five minutes.

Sleepy Equius.

Dirk got up, turned his light on, and started playing music on his iPod. He gently poked Equius’ face, tickled his neck, even leaned close to his ear and tried whispering his name a handful of times.

Dead as a fucking doornail, that Equius Zahhak.

That following morning, Equius didn’t seem to recall anything happening while he slept, hadn’t mentioned Dirk being a fucking dick or anything, so the Strider decided his boyfriend had, indeed, peacefully slept through the entire ordeal.  

For a little while Dirk swept his curiosity under the rug, dealing with Equius more while he was awake and aware.

Then the Strider began noticing again how odd his sleep habits where. It came about after they’d met that afternoon and spent most of the day studying for exams; Equius crashed on the couch around four am during a movie (to rejuvenate their poor abused minds, Dirk had said). Dirk hadn’t noticed for a full five minutes before his friendly dancing fingers where met with absolute indifference. It saved him the trouble of feeling offended, if nothing else, but Dirk was amazed with how smoothly Equius had seemed to slip away. The movie was playing pretty loudly too – being someone who had immense trouble sleeping with any sort of noise, even while exhausted, Dirk couldn’t quite understand how the troll managed it.

Dirk had noted Equius seemed to have a favorite sleeping position, too: fully flat on his stomach, arms beneath the pillow, covers pulled up high enough to cover the lower half of his face. On the couch, though, he only slumped ever-so-slightly, arms loosely crossed, head now tilted almost imperceptibly to one side. His breathing was deep, slow, the loose fabric of his tank top catching as it strained atop his expanding chest. Dirk bit his lip, leaning in closely. “Equius?”

No answer.

Dirk got onto one knee, leaning over to Equius. The sound of the movie blared on behind him, registering somewhere far away in the very back of his mind, a distant and senseless roar the filled the atmosphere with some lulled energy. It buzzed inside him, eagerness and curiosity and a sudden pulse of affection expanding within like sugar dissolving in water. “Equius?”

Dirk’s hands, marred with cuts and scabs strewn across the callous flesh, chicken-scratch marking his carelessness, his affinity for sharp and dangerous things, gently slid between the soft and warm muscles of Equius’ forearms. He unknotted them, and the ever-present image of polite tenseness was suddenly abolished. Dirk rested Equius’ right arm on the couch; the Strider carefully pulled himself up and settled on Equius’ lap, pulling the troll’s left arm back over him.

The human grabbed the remote and finally turned off the movie, feeling that plunge as sound was drowned and silence swallowed him up. His ears echoed with that memory of noise. Now there was silence and darkness, and a sleeping troll who didn’t wake up even when Dirk rested a hand on his bare neck.

It was a little hard to get so close. Equius, unlike most other trolls, apparently had some mutation that gave him extraordinary strength. Dirk new Equius to be a careful enough guy, but the troll did suffer from anger issues and had trouble controlling said strength. Equius could conduct himself with the grace and poise of any gentleman, but only with some great visible effort. Dirk often marveled at the tenderness with which Equius handled machinery and wires, or his dear friend Nepeta, or those prescription shades he had to wear in both natural and artificial light.

It was still hard to convince him, though, that touching Dirk was okay. Dirk wasn’t sure whether it was because Equius cared so much that he constantly refused the act of idle cuddling, of holding hands or hugging one another when they would greet. He sometimes considered that maybe Equius just wasn’t one for much physical contact at all. In any case, it was certainly something Dirk could learn to deal with. He’d rather not have to, though.

Curling up, kicking off his socks and slipping off both of their shades, Dirk set the eye-wear on the coffee table, on a napkin so there would be no contact with any of the spilled soda. He ran a hand through his hair, bleached blond with a streak of rebellious bright pink, a sight Equius had balked at when they’d first met. Meanwhile Dirk had been captivated with the state of Equius’ long mane, silky and more well-managed than any do he’d seen (not even Janey, who took the time to curl her hair, treated it as reverently).

Dirk buried one hand between his stomach and Equius’, lifting the other to toy with a loose strand of the blueish-black tresses. His fingers danced across Equius’ hairline like shy butterflies, his palm falling to gently brush that rough cheek. He got the sense that Equius was somewhat self-conscious about his appearance. There was a pride with his muscular physique that could never be mistaken as an act, but Dirk had seen it the first time he met the troll’s brother (or dancestor, as they were called), Horuss Zahhak. Whereas Equius prided himself with his status and manner, Horuss easily looked more the aristocrat – longer limbs and delicate fingers, with muscles that where lean and accented his inner power rather than make it so apparent, shining brilliantly as the heat if the sun, as it was with Equius. He sweated just as much but retained all of his teeth and seemed a jack of all trades, dabbling in many fields and excelling in quite a few.

Dirk saw it, the envy in Equius’ eyes. For all he proclaimed himself to be, for all he was, he did not look the part. He was brutish, hard-jawed and constantly glistening with a condition most uncommon to the cold-blooded trolls. While he was the visual embodiment of strength and power, he would never evoke that air of grace his dancestor had, could never be seen as a real gentleman. He had broken teeth and a broken horn, and broken shades for broken eyes, a crooked grin and hands that shook with invisible tremors whenever he worked, whenever he dared to touch a friend.

It was all bullshit, of course. The poor, sulky beast was beautiful, Dirk knew. How could he not see it? How could anyone overlook the silky mane, deep as the shadows of the ocean, the artistic theory to be seen in the shape of his nose? His skin, a cold grey, with that faint bluish tint, how that blue would glow like bioluminescence when he blushed from an earnest compliment. His eyes, rarely seen, where such a strikingly clear shade of grey that Dirk had been left breathless upon being allowed to see them for the first time.

Really, Equius’ entire face was something of perfection. Ever stoic, when he made those wider expressions of genuine excitement (or, heavens bless, those moments when he actually let out a laugh), he was like an acrylic masterpiece, and Dirk felt like he was the only one in the gallery. He had those expressions hung up, framed, in the hall of his mind. Those moments when Equius was not angry or indifferent, or tired or stuck-up, trying to excuse his noble ineptitude by putting down others; those moments where the ones Dirk lived for.

Their relationship status as boyfriends (matesprits, Dirk thought affectionately – he liked that term better to be honest) did not change much between them. They had been friends for quite some time before Equius finally declared he intended to court the human (all blushes and affirmations, so little eye contact, and Dirk remembered the way his heart had fluttered, and he could just imagine the cherry blossoms blooming in that shojo manga of his mind). There came with a flushed Equius, however, certain small and beautiful changes; the lingering touches, those shy but emphatic compliments, and his obvious attentiveness. Dirk was absolute shit with dates, even worse than Dave, who had some imagined reputation to uphold, yet Equius could remember every detail of a rendezvous. He seemed capable of storing the most trivial and idly commented facts, tucking them away for later.

Sometimes Equius was a little frustrating to handle, but Dirk understood he was too. Sometimes he felt a little too kinetic for Equius’ calm restrained ways, being an introvert who constantly desired to be outside, among the crowd, though anonymous and isolated. Dirk liked nights in but dearly needed, sometimes, to be out with others, hang out with friends and get swept up in the explosion of life and music and energy that came with parties, DJ gigs, movie nights, or impulsive expeditions around the neighborhood. Dirk’s life required agency and independence, but it also desired color and movement, blurred images of life sweeping by like smeared polaroid pictures, that buzz of ‘what happened last night’ which left you with only the afterthought and the faded feelings.

Their relationship functioned only once they had found that balance. They had no need to be clingy to one another – there were plenty of things they did not agree on, and plenty of time they’d rather spend alone or with others. Sometimes Equius’ naturally stubborn nature sometimes got on Dirk’s nerves; his persistent views on blood-castes where especially irritating to the human, who thought the whole system was outdated and problematic. He knew Equius used it only as a crutch and was working on refurbishing his mentality, but still, their arguments over the subject where frequent, if often lukewarm concerning passions.

 Equius acted as a rock, though, in relation to Dirk’s willing nature. Dirk could count on him for solid support and honest, more analytical advice concerning matters of the heart. Dirk knew it was hard for him not to be swept up and away sometimes – his romantic track record was proof of that, if the whole Jake debacle was anything to learn from. It was hard for Dirk not to drown in his feelings, but Equius was eternal flotsam, from which to hold on and catch his breathe.

A sudden movement caused Dirk’s eyes to snap open, instantly alert. He’d dozed off without realizing as much. The arm resting behind him suddenly moved to press against his shoulders. The hand he’d been holding, nestled on his lap, shifted to cup him at the hip. Dirk felt his cheeks flare at the touch of Equius’ cold skin.

“Dirk?” His voice was deeper than the pitch surrounding them, slower than its usual curt manner. He was barely above the pool of sleep. Equius’ eyes where half lidded, and Dirk gazed shyly back into those clear grey pools, surrounded by an inhuman shade of yellow. Despite all else there was to observe, all else that betrayed Equius’ for being a troll, it was his eyes which constantly reminded Dirk he was not quite the same. “Tell me the time…”

“Late.”

“That’s not a time, Dirk. You were sitting over there,” Equius went on, glancing lazily towards the opposite side of the couch. “Now you’re on my lap.”

Dirk knew his comments went beyond stating the obvious. He had long since noticed Equius’ seemingly unconscious reluctance to ask direct questions. Usually he simply commented on someone’s behavior in a way which subtly suggested he didn’t understand what they were doing or why. Either that or he simply liked to draw attention to what he perceived to be absurd choices and actions by forcing others to view themselves more critically.

“I was hella cold, bro.”

“I’m colder than the air.”

Dirk rolled his eyes, then suddenly realized he didn’t have his shades on. While not as much of a tightass about keeping them on at all times, like Dave, he still wasn’t used to being so close to someone and not having them. He looked away. Not even the darkness could cover him, with Equius’ eyes, made for peering into the dark. “I didn’t think you’d wake up,” Dirk said honestly. He shrugged, leaning his head against Equius’ chest. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could get away with the contact and wanted to take advantage of his position. “You sleep like a fuckin’ rock dude.”

There was a short moment where Equius said nothing, and the two of them simply breathed together, deep and smooth. Equius’ thumb was rubbing the small patch of skin visible at Dirk’s hip, so slowly and gently he could hardly notice. Dirk closed his eyes, releasing a sigh of pure satisfaction.

Equius wasn’t exactly the warmest cuddle buddy, but something about him made him feel like a blanket. Maybe it was his size, how much of him there was – his large muscles, his big, picturesque nose (Dirk really did love his nose, it looked like it had been sculpted, and he wondered, was nose worship a thing?), the curtain of his beautiful hair. Dirk felt safe, sitting here with Equius in the dark, curled up on his lap, held loosely in the troll’s arms.

While Equius was not a very warm person, when he spoke, his voice was warm with affection. “You sleep like a cat, as I have observed. And unlike me, you are very hot.”

Dirk couldn’t contain the small squeak of surprise when Equius suddenly closed in on him, arms tightening around his waist, face gently nuzzling into his neck. He felt the wetness of a kiss on the junction where neck met shoulder, and he could feel the heat himself, that embarrassing blush falling like a waterfall from his cheeks down the length of his throat, scalding against the fire of his overactive heart.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” Dirk said, trying to calm down, but his gay little heart couldn’t seem to take this. Equius was never as affectionate as this. He seemed totally unafraid, holding Dirk, hands pressed onto his skin.

“You’re fine. I was never asleep.”

“You’re fuckin’ kiddin’,” Dirk said, genuinely shocked. Equius hadn’t moved or twitched at all, not even when Dirk had removed his shades. “Please tell me you’re pullin’ my leg.”

“I was awake,” Equius whispered against the shell of Dirk’s left ear, sending shivers up and down the man’s body. If the troll kept this up, Dirk would become a messy puddle that stained the couch for years. Not that it didn’t already have a few pretty questionable stains.

“Well why didn’t you say anythin’?”

Equius pulled away, just enough so their eyes could meet. “You’ve been odd,” the troll said simply. “Whatever it is you’ve been doing, it’s interfering with your sleeping schedule. You’ve been tired at odd times. Staying up when we sleep, I assumed. You’re fascinated with my sleeping habits, for some reason.”

Dirk pouted. “Yeah, well, it ain’t my fault you sleep all weird like.”

“You humans are the ones with odd habits,” Equius argued, his voice sleepy. He placed more kisses along Dirk’s jaw. “I cannot comprehend why you insist on trotting about in the sunlight so much. You waste the cool night.”

“I guess nighttime has its perks,” Dirk conceded, more interested in the feeling of Equius’ lips than any sort of argument. “You ain’t upset I’ve been peepin’ on you then? You into that sorta thing? We need to have another discussion about-?”

Equius’ nose butted his own, and suddenly Dirk found his head being tilted to the left, and lips pressing softly against his. Once again he was surprised, but a giddiness overtook him and soon he was kissing back.

It was a sweet and lazy affair. They kissed in the dark, in the silence, both on the edge of sleep at four in the morning.

 


End file.
